Work Text:
Some days are harder than others for you. Despite being brought to the surface and being given a “happy ending”, you still feel a nagging sensation of dread and existential grief equaling out every bit of happiness you feel. Despite all of your amazing friends there to help you every step of the way, some days, you just can’t get out of bed. No one ever mentions it to you; no one points out how you’ve only seemed to get worse since everyone’s exodus from the underground, and Papyrus seems to be the only one even trying to suggest you get out more and get a job (ugh...).
Everyone’s patient with you, always so loving and kind: especially Toriel, who always tries to cheer you up with groan-worthy puns and friendly talks sprinkled with encouragement and eternal thanks for your fulfillment of the promise you made. But, you always were really good at keeping up your façade around even your closest friends. How could a skeleton even stop smiling, much less be smiling in the first place? Magic, and it required little to no effort now to keep your magical bones pulled back into at least a smug grin at all times after years of training.
But it could all be set back to zero, at literally any moment of the day. You liked the kid, they really did a good job... this time. But that’s just it, you still remember, if however hazy, those shattered timelines that had been filled with pain and littered with dust. The feeling of repeatedly killing the kid, the smooth repetition of your monologue, carefully planned while they’d killed all of your friends, and that final release when you were...
Well, hey, no use in dwelling on it right? You may always have that fear, but there’s no use in beating yourself up over something that never technically happened (in this timeline).
Sometimes the nightmares never came, they appeared ten times worse in vivid visions during the day, activated almost randomly, something encouraging that Papyrus says, a well-said pun from Toriel, or that one time that the kid showed off that creepy smile you remembered all too well. Even though no one mentioned it, you know that they knew how fucked up you were. That you were exactly what you accused the kid of being: someone who will never be happy, no matter what they’re given.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It started off about as well as the best of your days. Papyrus, Toriel, Frisk, and you went to the zoo to celebrate, er, something good? You weren’t quite paying attention, of course not for lack of trying! It was alright by your standards (SANS-ards, heh, gotta write that one down), any time you get to not only have fun with the kid, but also break down Papyrus’ patience for puns, with Tori helping; pretty perfect day in fact, up until you got home.
You immediately passed out on the couch before eliciting one final grunt from Papyrus and stifled giggle from Tori by saying, “* cushion be happier to be home.” A couple of hours later, you were awoken by a mini-night terror, but nothing you couldn’t instantly reign in, and the sound of your three friends busy clattering in the kitchen. Being the charitable being you were, you decided to get up and offer another two hands to help make dinner: smelled like something that wasn’t spaghetti, you could only imagine how persuasive Tori had to be to get Papyrus relinquish control over the meal choice, if only for now.
“I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY HE’S BEEN SO... SANS-LIKE, EVEN AFTER WE REACHED THE SURFACE,” Papyrus doesn’t exactly have an inside voice, but you can tell he’s trying to whisper. You feel guilty, it may not be yours, or anyone’s fault, that you’re like this, but Papyrus is such a cool guy to have put up with it for so long, and to still tolerate it. Well, even though it’s not polite to talk about someone when they can hear you, you aren’t one for listening in on private conversations either, so you make the loudest most obnoxious yawn you can and after a few seconds, walk into the kitchen.
You aren’t sure exactly what happened at first, you just felt panic well up into your sternum and cause you almost physical pain due to the stress. “* pap, no!” Your eye quickly flickered to life with azure magic and flung the kid into the wall as hard as possible. The knife they’d held seconds ago clattered to the floor, echoing inside of your skull, mixing with the blood (or, dust, more like?) rushing in your ears.
You slightly hear both of your friends yelling at you to stop, “BROTHER PLEASE STOP-!”
“Frisk! Sans stop it-!” You don’t care, all you can imagine is how you were always one step behind the kid and stumbled across your friends’ ashes all the way to the Judgement Hall.
As if out of some sick habit, you begin your spiel all over again, “*our reports showed an anomaly in the time space continuum,” you slam Frisk into the opposite wall, your friends continue to yell at you, Papyrus tries to wrench your hand out of the air, but it’s no use. “*timelines jumping left and right, stopping and starting...” You cage the crying child in blue bones and ready yourself to end this, “*until suddenly, everything ends...” You pull your left hand back as you close your eyes in preparation, spawning four separate Gaster Blasters and aiming them at Frisk.
“*heh heh heh...” your eyes go dark as you open them up, “* t h a t ' s y o u r f a u l t i s n ' t i t ?” The Blasters rev up their energy matrices in sync, and just as you’re about to release the beams-
“Sans!? You made a promise...” Something about the helpless, broken way Tori cried out, made you stop. You slowly lower your hand and fizzle the Blasters away and sink the bones back into the floor. Numbness overtakes you, *if they didn’t hate me before... The dread is suffocating you. Your eyes sting with held back tears, threatening to spill forth at any second.
Toriel rushes towards a fetal-position Frisk, tears staining both of their cheeks. As if you weren’t crushed enough, the full force of what you just did decimates your psyche when Papyrus says, “SANS, HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO A FRIEND?” That was the most deflated and disappointed Papyrus has ever sounded. Ah, there are the tears. Fluorescent drops of magic prickle the corners of your sockets and dribble down your forever-smiling face. But the scariest part is how your smile twitches and falters, for just a millisecond.
Of all the terrible things to just transpire, the last thing you’ll do is stop smiling in front of people who you were so close to, no matter how ridiculous it sounded, you had to get out of there. “*i-i’m so... i’msorry!” You spit out your apology as fast as possible before snapping your fingers and blinking the hell out of there. It takes half a second to register where you chose to go in your frenzied panic. The dim-lighting, smell of perma-grease, and dingy digs instantly register as, of course, Grillby’s. *wow, i really am fucked up bad, huh?
Your smile trembles before finally dissipating into a relaxing grimace. The numbness hasn’t subsided yet, in fact, it’s completely seeped into your bones and leaked into your SOUL; at least, that’s how it feels. You take a seat at your old bar stool, feeling the padding give under you. “*i wonder if i could just sit here until i turn into dust...” you immediately quit your out-loud ramblings, not only does your own voice disgust you right now, but it just makes you sound like even more of a coward saying it aloud.
Even though you doubt it would help, you suddenly have the overwhelming urge to just sleep it off, your eyelids begin to droop just thinking about your issues: typical. *why not, i don’t think i’d be exactly welcomed back home with open arms. assuming tori doesn’t kill me as soon as i walk in.
And with that final thought, you place your head on the counter and let go.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You startle awake from the lucid tongues you heard as you slept, you knew where you heard such sounds from, but never... never had they sounded so nonsensical. You can only remember a few words and they were all uncharacteristically encouraging, almost supportive and paternal. Strange. Even the void can’t keep the old man off of your back. Some things never change.
At least Grillby’s is still empty, a reset didn’t occur. But, that fills you with more fear then if the world had been reset. Such a selfish thought only fills you with more self-loathing. Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket, pulling it out, you see you have... wow, 38 text messages:
tori <3-
Sans
Please come home and talk to us
We’re not mad and Frisk is unharmed
They seemed as though they understood your outburst
But they will not tell me unless you come home
Please...
How can someone who’s been hurt so much be so understanding and forgiving? Such selflessness only disheartens you from going home even more. The next few texts are from Papyrus:
paps-
BROTHER?
WHERE DID YOU GO?
YOU LEFT IN SUCH A HASTE THAT YOU HADN’T SEEN THE HUMAN WAS UNHARMED
THEY EVEN CONFIDED IN ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, THAT THEY WERE AWARE OF WHY YOU FELT SO... “ACTIVE”
Papyrus definitely meant “like a violent douche”, it was an unspoken guarantee.
PLEASE, JUST COME HOME AND I’LL
I’LL ALLOW YOU TO GET ANOTHER PET ROCK
OR PUT YOUR SOCKS ANYWHERE
JUST COME HOME
You rub the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger while exhaling a shaky breath. A searing migraine is beginning to build and your thoughts are being drowned out by static. The next were from... Undyne? Oh, this should be lovely:
undyne-
NGGAAHHH! HEY, PUNK!
WHERE DID YOU GO?
I SWEAR TO ASGORE, IF YOU DON’T COME RIGHT BACK, I’M GONNA GRAB YOU BY THE LEG AND-
No need to go further, it’s just a paragraph of half-baked, hollow threats. It’s pretty much how Undyne shows she cares. You lock your phone and place it on the counter for a small break, hopping off of your perch to go around the bar and grab a bottle of ketchup before returning to the worn bar seat. You twist the cap off and down the bottle in a few seconds, even your favorite condiment tastes of failure and cowardice right now. Well back to it, the next texts are from Alphys; weird... you guys never really got close again after Dr. Gaster’s death:
alphys-
Hey Sans
I
Just wanted to know
To know where you are?
Oh
And apologize for Undyne
For being, you know
Undyne
She’s just really worried
We all are
It’s not my business but
But does this have to do with the experiments?
Nvm
Just
Please come home soon
Even her texts look like she’s stuttering, it was kind of awkward, but showed off her personality pretty well. Finally, the last few texts were from Asgore. *aw, man, what could king fluffybuns want?
king fluffybunz-
Sans.
It is Asgore.
Yeah, um, Asgore never quite got the hang of technology.
Please, come home. I’ve rarely seen Toriel this upset.
Everyone just wants to know you’re safe.
I think they’re afraid that you
Well, I’m sure whatever happened, it can be solved over a nice up of tea!
*they think that i... what? You wonder for a while if it was that obvious, it’s not like you ever dropped any hints, right? Your phone begins to ring, playing a remix of “Spooky Scary Skeletons” and the picture that appears is one Papyrus photo shopped himself with him having muscles and wearing sunglasses. *man, paps really is the coolest.
You’ve never missed a call from Papyrus, regardless of the situation, it takes little deliberation before answering autonomously. “*hey br-...” you sharply clear your throat to sound less scratchy, “*sup, bro?”
“BROTHER? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” You can hear the panic-y crack in Papyrus’ voice.
You shut your eyes, you don’t like lying to him, but... “*heh, never bone better bro.” Instead of hearing a groan of anguish on the other end, you hear Papyrus choke up and lower his voice the lowest octave you’ve ever heard it before: “SANS... I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S WRONG, BUT QUEEN TORIEL IS QUITE SAD.”
“*just tell her i’m sorry about what i did to frisk, i don’t know what-...”
“NO, SANS, YOU MISUNDERSTAND, THE QUEEN IS MELANCHOLY BECAUSE SHE FEELS HELPLESS IN BEING UNABLE TO ‘AID YOUR INNER TORMENT’.” That... had to be exactly what Tori said, Papyrus doesn’t even know the meaning of melancholy, much less is he able to comprehend the concept of torment. Wow, you didn’t think you could feel any lower... are those more tears? Oh, great...
You begin to choke up, “*just... just tell everyone i’ll be home soon, pap. i promise, a-and you know i hate making those.”
“REALLY? EXCELLENT! I SHALL TELL THE OTHERS! OH, AND I WILL MAKE CELEBRATORY SPAGHETTI FOR OUR LONG ADULT TALK!” Your smile perks back up for the first time since you blinked away like a coward, you don’t deserve any one of your friends; but especially not such a cool, innocent brother like Papyrus.
“*alright, paps. see ya soon.” Papyrus says his goodbye and hangs up quickly to prepare your arrival dinner. Welp, you can’t leave them waiting now. You stand up, cracking your joints loudly and steel yourself to return home by pulling your smile back into its place: this time, it feels more natural, though. Maybe this won’t be as bad as you think.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This was a mistake, a huge mistake; only two seconds after your spontaneous return, the silence of the usually bustling home is deafening and alien to you, almost like uncharted waters. Panic attack definitely incoming.
You slowly drag your feet to the kitchen, and if the initial silence of the house hadn’t unsettled you enough, the stark empty kitchen is giving you fourth-thoughts. Your non-existent stomach is doing barrel rolls and churning with each passing second; “*did they actually leave me?” you think aloud, voice quivering in a flurry of emotions: disappointment, fear, sadness, and even relief that they got out before it was too late.
“Sans?” Toriel asks lightly from another part of the house, “I’m in the living room, if you’re ready.” The tone of her voice, it was calm and empathetic, but stoic, like she was trying to control it purposefully. She usually only talks like that when explaining a sore topic to Frisk; the point is, it means nothing good. Breathe in. Breathe out. Calm down, keep it cool. Maybe you can continue to hide what’s going on, mask it behind jokes and deny anything happened, you just had a small freak out and thought Frisk was someone else. Yeah, that’ll work...
If the slow walk to the kitchen felt like a death march, the crawl into the living room feels like the green mile right before you’re executed. But the smile never leaves your face, and as much as you want to, you don’t let the lights leave your eye sockets.
“*sup, tori?” you ask smoothly.
Your self-disgust crests at its max capacity when you see Tori’s crestfallen smile, eyes red from crying, and face fur dingy from unknown grief caused all by you. Fuck, there it goes, your smile twitches again, but this time you don’t flee. You can’t, not to her, not again. “Hello, Sans. Please have a seat, would you like some tea?”
“*nah, it goes right through me.” You say with a wink as you take the couch across from her. She merely nods in response, not even a small, throaty cough-laugh or acknowledgement of the joke; that terrifies you. She must really hate you, and now she’s about to say it to your face.
“*wait,” you look around in bewilderment with shifting eyes, “*where’s pap and the, uh... kid?” You whisper “kid” not wanting to reach the conflict any sooner than Toriel wants to.
“Well,” her voice is soft and almost as quiet as if a door once again stood between you two. Maybe your actions have re-erected one, “Papyrus rushed off to acquire ingredients for your ‘return spaghetti’ and I asked if he did not mind taking Frisk along.” Oh shit. It’s just you two. All alone to be crushed and burned to death in a moment of vengeance for the child you nearly murdered. In fact, successfully, murdered hundreds of times in alternate timelines.
You clear your throat as sweat begins to bead up on your skull, “*well, i just want to say, um, before we start that... i’m- i’m sorry for what happened. and i’m sorry for running away afterward, like a coward...” Your whole body began to heave and shake in anticipation to dodge a fireball. That’s a lie, if Toriel summoned any attacks, you’d gladly hop straight into it to make up for your entire pathetic life.
“Sans...” Toriel lightly breathed out, “It... it is alright.”
“*eh... um, i’m sorry?” you huff out in disbelief over what you just heard.
“It is fine, there is no need to apologize. Frisk is fine. Although I do not understand why you did what you did,” a look of pain flashes across her face at the memory, cutting you twice as deep, “Frisk says it was merely in fear and said I cannot hold it against you.”
You can’t help it at this point, your eyes go dark and the tears begin to materialize, still refusing to fall.
“Sans, I want you to know how much you mean to me and Frisk,” *jesus christ please stop being so understanding, “I can tell you hide very much from us, as I do from you, so I am in no position to talk. But, if you ever need to talk... Sans?”
You are full on weeping now, your bones are rattling, magic crackling out of every joint and you’re overcompensating by extending your smile until your jaw feels like it’s going to crack. Toriel hurriedly rushes forward to engulf you in an embrace, silently comforting you and silencing your sobs. It’s weird, you actually feel... safe like this. Safe in the arms of your friend, in the arms of someone you... She deserves to know.
“*t-tori,” she pulls back and nods to you, a patient smile on her maw, “i- i think i’m ready to talk... there’s something you should know.” She releases you and sits next to you, refusing to let go of your hand as she does.
“Whenever you are ready, Sans.” Toriel coos soothingly in your ear. You wipe your eye sockets clean of blue tears and compose your thoughts; she can’t know the whole story, it would crush her view of her own child, of you, it would break her.
Well, you always were good at lying through your teeth (*heh).
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So,” Toriel narrowed her eyes in trying to comprehend the cluster bomb of inter-dimensional knowledge you just napalmed her mind with, “you’re saying that there was an ‘anomaly’ able to reset, and make new, timelines? And only you could remember the alternate universes enough to be aware of the ‘RESETS’?” You nod eagerly, all this time and you can’t believe how well she understood everything you just said!
“And some of these ‘RESETS’, another, more evil human fell instead of Frisk?” Oh, yeah, you couldn’t bear to tell her the whole truth, technically it was Frisk, but she didn’t need to know that; at least you’re finally opening up, right?
“And... you had to go back on your promise to me and... kill them?” Toriel began to choke up as she spoke, of course you expected this, because it wasn’t a secret that she was far too compassionate to not feel anything for a child, homicidal tendencies aside. Still, you nodded, just more hesitant and remorseful than before. “And they even went as far as to kill...” she gulped down the figurative lump forming in her throat, “... you?”
You averted your eyes for your own sake now, you hadn’t told her how you relished the sweet release of death, or even how invigorating killing not-Frisk truly felt after watching their rampage from the sidelines, slinking along in the shadows. Like a coward. All you can feel is your sins crawling down your back. Although you didn’t trust your own vocal cords, another nod would feel far too distant, “*yeah...”
Suddenly, you feel Toriel shift at your side and you are blanketed in her robed arms in another hug. “Sans,” her voice is far more relaxed now, almost jubilant, “I had no idea, but I am glad that you finally chose to talk to me about all of this.”
You just hold still, stiffening at the contact, still apprehensive, despite her acceptance of you after everything you’ve done. “You never had to hide all of this. We are your friends. I... will always be here for you, just as you were always there for me, when you only knew me as a voice behind a door.” You’re not sure what it is, but you are sure that Toriel is blushing vibrantly right about now. Then, you feel her lips caress the top of your skull tenderly, lingering for more than a friendly second, before she releases you and gets up at the sound of the front door being noisily unlocked.
“-NO HUMAN, I ASSURE YOU! METTATON AND I ARE MERELY GOOD FRIENDS, LIKE SANS AND T-...” Now it’s your turn, along with Toriel, to flush blue with magic blush, “BROTHER! YOU’VE RETURNED AHEAD OF SCHEDULE!” Papyrus runs forward, scooping you up into a large brother hug, all the while “NYEH-HEH-HEH’ing”.
“*heh, sorry pap,” you pull your smile tighter in anticipation, winking at Tori, who’s trying to cover her mouth in advance, “*didn’t mean to have you up in arms.” Papyrus ceases his giddy bounding and holds you out at arm’s length with a firm scowl now painted across his features. “SANS, SINCE I AM SO GLAD TO SEE YOU, I SHALL OVERLOOK THIS INDISCRETION.”
“*thanks, bro. ‘cuz you know-...” you start before being dropped flat on your ass.
“DO NOT MISTAKE MY KINDNESS FOR ENJOYMENT OF YOUR PUNS!” Papyrus screams, gripping both sides of his skull with gloved hands, causing him to accidentally (?) drop you.
A quick apology later and he’s off to the kitchen to prepare an “AMAZING MEAL OF EPIC PROPORTIONS” for Frisk, Tori, and you.
Never one for excess movement, you decide to stay lying on your back on the carpeted floor when Frisk comes over and looks down at you positively beaming. They quickly sign something to you, you don’t quite catch it all, but it seems as though they’re just asking if you’re alright now.
“*i’m alright kid,” you quickly peek to see that Tori left to aid, or more likely supervise, Papyrus in the kitchen, “*hope you don’t mind, but i told tori a bit about the resets. not too much though, and not that you’re responsible.”
Frisk signs quickly something along the lines of, As long as you’re happy, ‘Dad’.
Woah, that knocks your train of thought of course a little. As soon as they realize their faux pas, Frisk is frantically signing apologies, before you raise your hand to stop them, reassuring them, “*it’s, heh, alright kid. call me whatever you want.” For once in your adult life, you can say for certain that your smile is genuine. Frisk returns the smile and quickly scampers off after signing about helping ‘uncle Papyrus’ and ‘goat-mom’ in the kitchen. *heh. Maybe you could finally stop being afraid and just be happy with your life. You’re safe. Everyone’s safe...
Your thoughts are shattered by the sound of the door being kicked off its hinges and the guttural screaming of, “YOU DIDN’T COME BACK WHEN I SAID, PUNK! NOW YOU’RE GONNA GET IT!” Or maybe you won’t have much longer to enjoy that life after all.